The Really, Really Sad Truth
by Babydollunderthesky
Summary: Draco loved Hermione; loved his family. Still, he left. Now he must face the consequences of his actions when everything he loved suddenly falls apart.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Please, please, please don't kill me for writing this.**

_Summary: Basically, Draco abandoned his family for reasons undisclosed. Ten years later, he's forced to make a reappearance when Hermione dies. His return, however, is not welcomed, especially by his son, Scorpius. The weird thing is that he really, really believed that he, Draco Malfoy, deserved it._

**The Really, Really Sad Truth**

Draco Malfoy trudged up the stairs grudgingly. He could hear his own heartbeat sounding in his ears, and could almost feel his heart itself attempting to claw out of his chest. He stopped at the last step, before looking to his right and left.

To his right, he knew…had been their room. Their room for five years. To his left…his children's rooms. Last he'd been there, Sophie's bedroom had been a nursery. She was turning one. Scorpius's room was the one at the end of the small corridor. He headed for it first.

Hand on the door knob, he hesitated. He didn't really want to walk in and see his son after…ten years. He didn't want to see what he looked like, _though_, as he recalled every single day since he'd left, from the moment he woke up to the moment he slept, his son had his blond hair, and his grey eyes. _Though_, as he also recalled with much pain, he had the characteristics of his mother almost all the time – except when he was in what Draco would term as a "Malfoy" mood. He remembered the way his son's eyes would light up when he came home from work and reached for him, spinning him off the ground. He remembered the way his son would absolutely beam everytime he took him for a ride on his broom. He remembered the way his son would hide behind him whenever wary, clinging onto his pants. He remembered the way his son would laugh at his jokes.

Too many memories, Draco concluded. Too many memories that plagued his mind. He could not forget his son during the five years Draco had been a part of his life. In the same way, he had no idea what the boy was like now. _Especially _now.

Draco let go of the door knob. No, he was not ready to face this. Given the choice he probably would've faced this when his child was around twenty-years-old, and perhaps not so young, not so…ugh, was he really going to think this? – Not so damaged by what Draco had done.

Draco didn't want to see his son. He didn't want to see any trace of evidence that he had messed up big time. He knew it, it was a fact after all through his eyes, but to actually see the pain in another person's eyes…that would probably kill him.

Death jokes aside, he thought it over. If he didn't go to see Scorpius first, he'd go to see Sophie.

Ah, trickier.

Turning around, Draco stepped infront of Sophie's room, and looked at it. The flower pattern design on one side of the door that he had cast on it when she was born was still there. It looked just as it had the day he'd cast the spell. Nothing, not even ten years worth of time, had caused any defrayment.

His baby girl. She'd had his hair as well, but it had been barely showing. He'd left before she'd learned to talk. He didn't even know what her first word had been. He supposed it would have been 'Mama' or 'Ma' or something of the sort. No way in the world could it have had anything to do with him. What was she like, now, he wondered. He had literally no idea. Except for the fact that she'd had her mother's eyes. Those brown eyes that seemed to melt with warmth everytime she looked up at her parents. Draco shuddered at the thought of coming in contact with those eyes again. Given the current situation, he was almost sure that one look into them would send him weeping.

And, being the person he was, weeping was generally something he avoided like the plague.

Oh, forget it. Turning around, he headed for the stairs. He could not do this. Not yet. And not alone. He'd go down, join his mother who was having some tea, and then come up again later, with said mother, and meet the children. He could not do this alone. He would not do this alone. He would –

"Dad?"

Draco stopped, having taken his first step down the stairs. To his right was the wall. He could not see the source of the sound. But it was definitely Sophie. Merlin. So that was what her voice sounded like. Draco knew he'd never forget that now. Ironic, wasn't it? The first word she'd said within his range was 'Dad'. He hoped Merlin was enjoying this sick joke. Turning around, Draco heard her as she ran, stopping infront of him.

Oh my…

She had blond hair as well, but it was neither straight, nor bushy. It was…messy. Not messy, no. Just…somewhere inbetween the bushiness and the straightness. Like she had been caught inbetween his and her genes. She stared at him, yes, with those brown eyes. He felt himself choke back a…sob? No way. He wasn't going to go teary-eyed at this first acquaintance. She looked at him, almost in disbelief.

What was he playing at? He was glued to the floor, that's what it was. Glued to the floor, as though held by some jinx as he stared up at her form. Her hair was just below her shoulders. She was wearing a jumper Draco knew in his heart belonged to her mother. And maybe that was what broke him.

Seeing such a little form – his daughter – looking like she'd just been crying, with her cheeks shining with what he believed were dried up tears. Goodness, she looked small for a nine-year-old. She was almost ten, though, he reminded himself. She looked so beautiful. She looked like a mixture of him and her mother. He found himself gaping.

Had he really spent ten years away from her? Unable to protect her? Unable to be there for her?

His thoughts were brought to a frightening halt as she ran her hand down her arm, looking at him, breaking as well.

"S-s-sophie?" Draco himself stammered.

She nodded at him, almost too quickly.

A moment later, another figure came into the scene. He was much taller than Sophie, almost as tall as Draco. He had the same hair, the same eyes. His didn't portray the same emotions as Sophie though. True, his cheeks looked glazed with tears, but his eyes were hard. Cold. Angry almost. He stared at Draco dismissively, then said, voice icy, "You're here."

Draco's heart almost dropped at the sound of his voice. His son…

"Yeah, I am," he replied, trying to pull himself back towards reality. The gravity of the situation was hitting him. Hard.

"You should leave then," Scorpius sneered, walking away.

That time Draco's heart did drop. He stared at the spot where his son had been. Fifteen-year-old Scorpius, who back then would've been overjoyed at the sight of his father returning home, now willed him to leave.

His son didn't owe him any kindness, Draco thought to himself. His son didn't owe him anything. Didn't have any reason to be nice, or civil, or even respectful.

Sophie stared at him a little more, as though battling within herself whether to reach out to him, or to walk away. Embarrased, as the color rose to her cheeks, she ran, and he heard the sound of two doors slamming shut.

"Draco?" Another voice. Turning around, he found his mother, looking up at him expectantly.

"I – I have to go," he stammered, before taking off, grabbing his coat off the coathanger, and almost running out of the house. He strode, too fast for her to catch up. She called at him.

He apparated on the spot, leaving her alone infront of the house.

When he reached his apartment, he barely flinched, dropping more than sitting on his bed, his hands reaching up to cover his face as he thought furious curses towards the world, and wept. It had been too much. Ten years worth unintended faults. Merlin.

Scorpius placed a heavy hand on his sister's shoulder. She looked up at him, and caught his eye, before looking back at the new grave infront of them. It was an hour after the official burial, and they were still rooted to the spot, Sophie more than Scorpius. She looked back, and instead of staring at her mother's coffin, stared at her mother's tombstone. Emotions rushed back up her blood to her head, and she leaned against Scorpius, who, thankfully, provided much support.

"Scor?" she called out quietly.

He grunted in reply. Scorpius wasn't making much use with the words lately…ever since…ever since…Sophie could not bring herself to say it. Let alone think it. She held on to her brother tighter, and his gaze softened.

"What is it, Sophie?"

She almost snorted. Always her brother, never coming up with some smart way to shorten her name. Sophie. Always Sophie. Why, even her mother – no. It was too painful to think of that. Sophie held on even tighter after that.

"I miss her."

The last part came out almost in a sob. She turned at that point, and Scorpius gave her a hug with one arm. She felt a fresh wave of tears begin to fall down her cheeks as her brother rubbed her back comfortingly.

"It's going to be okay, Sophie," he told her quietly. "I promise."

"You promise?" she asked, sounding so much like the child she rarely attempted to be.

"Promise," Scorpius said. "You and me against the world, Sophie," he said.

She turned away, looking back at their mother's tombstone. "It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair."

Merlin, why was Scorpius being so morbidly impossible? Sophie almost lashed out.

"It used to be."

Scorpius snorted at her response.

"Do you mean the part between Draco Malfoy abandoning us and mum dying?" His voice shook slightly. Was it in anger? Or pain?

"Don't talk about dad like that."

"I have no father," Scorpius bit off shortly, settling the matter.

"You're being such a teenager, Scor."

"I'm fifteen, Sophie. What were you expecting?"

She let the topic drop, and the silence hovered over them.

"It's around a month to September," she sighed.

"So?"

"You'll leave for Hogwarts again," she said, turning to him once more, looking at him with teary brown eyes.

_Oh, that_, Scorpius thought.

"I'll be back for Christmas. You know how time flies, Sophie."

"It used to. I mean…what am I supposed to do, Scorpius? I'll be all alone. Mum – Mum's gone."

Scorpius inhaled deeply at the truth of his sister's words.

"Mum's gone," he echoed.

Draco watched them from afar. He didn't dare take a step forward throughout the entire thing. He didn't come close to even pay his last respects. He didn't want to see her face, with her eyes closed. No longer breathing. He'd watched her sleep countless times before, but now…now he was sure he wouldn't be able to take it. His own eyes teared up as things progressed. He saw his kids, in the front row, next to his own mother. He saw how Scorpius's hand would come to rest at Sophie's shoulder protectively.

He saw his own son try to fight back tears like any Malfoy would, but in the end he failed. His tears fell silently though, just a few, which he wiped away soon, the hard look coming back to his eyes. _Just like on any Malfoy._

_Merlin, Scorpius, if only you knew how sorry I am_, Draco thought. _How sorry I am that you turned this way. You used to be so…happy. So full of life. And now, now you're just like me._

Draco watched them, not daring to come out of his own little hiding place in the shades of the trees, until they left. At that point, he moved forward, each step dragging him deeper into the ground as he walked. Each step increasing the pain he bore on his shoulders. The guilt he carried in his heart. His eyes were already watering up, and he hadn't even reached the grave yet! He was a disgrace.

Finally, when he reached there, he broke down. There was no fighting it. No fighting at all. He dropped to his knees, there and then, convulsing in the sobs of a sorry man. He was sorry.

If he could, he would trade places with her. He would go down happily, knowing that his children would be happy with their mother. Their mother who did nothing wrong according to his books. Their mother who didn't deserve to die. In comparison to him – Draco Malfoy. The mark on his arm still burned him within, and that was enough evidence in itself as to why he deserved to go first.

"I'm sorry," he said, barely in a whisper. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

And the really, really sad thing about it was that he truly was.

**A/N: Hey, guys. I'm considering keeping this as a one-shot, but I guess with enough coaxing I might go into stretching out his story. I have a possible plot played out in my mind. I've had this idea in my head for almost years now (over-reacting, much?) and finally decided that Dramione was the right couple to play it out for. If I do make this a more than one-shot (where has my grammar gone?) it will include certain flashbacks about their love, and what went wrong. And it'll include Draco as he tries to reconcile with his children, especially Scorpius. So, tell me what you think?**

**Starzunderthesky**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Took me forever to update, sorry. THANKS TO THOSE WHO REVIEWED!**

**Italicized means flashback. **

**The Really, Really Sad Truth**

_**I look just like him. **_

"Admiring your good looks, Scor?" Sophie snorted, sitting comfortably on her brother's bed. Scorpius jumped, banging his head against the mirror he'd been standing too close to. He leaned against it, eyes wide as he refreshed his mind on the new information. He looked just like his father. He couldn't believe it.

"Scorpius? Scorpius Granger? Are you still alive?" Sophie taunted, debating whether to throw a pillow at him or not.

_**Scorpius Granger. Granger, not Malfoy. **_

He'd decided, sometime around his tenth birthday, when discussions about moving to a new town arose, that he would change his surname. He didn't want to be dragged down by it. Malfoy. Everytime he was called out at Muggle school, the word Malfoy always sounded so evil. So…sly. So deceptive. Bullies would call him Malfoy, yell it at him across the grounds. His teachers would bark the name at him when he wasn't paying attention. And at the end of the year, when he'd won himself a ton of awards despite the frivolous comments, it didn't seem right to award it to a 'Malfoy'. He felt it was the 'Granger' side of him that deserved to be awarded for academics. He felt it was the 'Granger' side of him that deserved to be awarded for sports (despite his mother's heavy claims that his talent in sports came from his father). Malfoy was a name that either punished, or deserved to be punished. And all Scorpius wanted was to sink into the background. So, at the age of ten, he sat down across his mother, who'd been going over their electricity bill, and told her, in the best fashion he could, that he, Scorpius Malfoy, wanted to be renamed Scorpius Granger.

His mother stopped with her computing, and looked at him, eyebrows raised. She asked him to repeat his question, hoping she'd been wrong about it the first time. But she'd been right. And after that, she asked him for a reason. He gave her the points he'd been stressing over, and she listened, thinking of a way to resolve the situation. In the end there was nothing but the deepest truth. The one Scorpius had been hiding: He did not want, in any way, to be related to his father. He did not want people to know him as the son of Draco Malfoy.

His mother gave in. He changed his surname.

"Sophie, shut up," Scorpius bit off, turning to face his sister. She gave him a look, before staring at the side, looking out at the light seen from his window. It was a bright morning, and she did not feel too awake.

"Scor," she said offhandedly, pulling at the edge of his bed. "What will people think next year…when I come to Hogwarts, and we have different surnames?"

_**Oh, yes. Sophie Malfoy. **_

Unlike Scorpius, Sophie did not want to change her surname. She hadn't even given it any thought. The way Scorpius saw it, this was because she didn't know. She was a baby at that time, that night. The night Draco Malfoy abandoned his family. The night Scorpius had been awake, leaning into the crib of his baby sister, while his parents had hushed conversations in the next room. They believed him to be asleep, but they were wrong. And soon their conversations went from calm to chaotic. There were accusations, arguments and in the end ultimatums. Scorpius had heard it all, hiding behind his sister's crib while she'd been fast asleep. He heard Draco Malfoy make his choice. Soon enough there was the sound of apparition. But no crying, and that was what shook Scorpius.

His mother wasn't crying. He, himself, had been, since he heard the words: Are you thinking of leaving?

He was crying because he knew what the outcome of their conversation would be. It wasn't a debate on whether Draco Malfoy should leave – it was Malfoy defending his choice to do so. He'd made the decision beforehand. He chose something else over his family, the life he'd been trying to build for last…Scorpius didn't even know how many years had passed since Malfoy had, so to say, "changed". The only thing he was sure of was that Malfoy had changed back. Good riddance, he came to think of it in later years. But there was still that little twinge of hurt, pain, and above all else – anger.

"How sure are you that you'll even get a letter from Hogwarts?" Scorpius played coolly, giving his sister a smirk. She rolled her eyes at his sly joke.

"Logically speaking, Scor, I will. Do your friends even know you have a sister?"

_**I have no friends.**_

It was true. Scorpius' first day at Hogwarts had been all right. He met a boy named Al Potter that day. Al was friendly and just as nervous as Scorpius was. He knew the minute he saw the boy that this was the son of Harry Potter, his mother's ex-best friend. How that had happened, Scorpius didn't know. But it did. Harry Potter hadn't even been to the funeral. Maybe it was choice, but Scorpius didn't believe that. Potter…Potter probably didn't even know yet.

But, back to him and Al, all was well. Al even had a little sister who'd be starting the next. He was excited, sure, but not so sure, that he'd been sorted into Gryffindor. He was scared of being sorted into Slytherin. His older brother, James was it, was in Gryffindor, and over the course of their summer had spent time drilling the nerves into Al's head.

Even Scorpius had been nervous. However, he was more worried that nervous. He knew, deep inside, that he had a ninety-percent chance of landing in Slytherin. His father was Draco Malfoy, pureblood, Slytherin, and everything required in a Slytherin student.

The fact that his father was Draco Malfoy made Scorpius almost sure he'd be sorted into Slytherin. It made him hate his blood even more.

On the other hand, maybe, just maybe, he'd be sorted into Gryffindor, just like his mother. He was almost sure he had none of the traits of Slytherins. He felt no prejudice against muggleborns, nor pride for his blood. But…he didn't know.

Al tried to lighten his burden, telling him he'd probably be in Gryffindor too. His mother was Hermione Granger, after all. One of the brightest and bravest witches of all time. Then Al asked the million-galleon question: _"What's your surname?"_

"_Huh?" Scorpius had said, trying to play stupid. Al gave him a look._

"_Well, your mother's obviously married now. So what's your surname?"_

"_Granger," Scorpius said evenly. "It's Granger."_

_Al frowned at that. "But…how?"_

"_I asked for it to be changed. I don't have a father."_

"_Since…ever?"_

"_No. He – he left us. Before."_

"_Oh…Sorry."_

_Scorpius just shrugged. _

"_Well," Al had said. "What was it before then?"_

_Scorpius let a little time pass before answering. Al was patient, he waited for his new friend to be ready. _

"_Granger, Scorpius!"_

_It was during the sorting. The moment of truth. Al nudged Scorpius forward, trying to wake the boy. Scorpius had zoned out of the situation, thinking about how horrifying it felt. People around were already buzzing. A Granger? Named Scorpius? Weird. Gryffindor. Definitely Gryffindor. A blond Granger?_

_Scorpius took his seat on the stool, and Professor McGonagall, having seemingly zoned out herself at the sight of him. Giving herself a barely noticeable shake of the head, she placed the Sorting Hat on his head._

_After a long pause of thought, the hat spoke: You, boy, what do you want?_

_Scorpius thought, Not. Slytherin._

_But why? It's where your father came from, you know._

_Well, my mother came from Gryffindor._

_Yes, and you…you do have the traits of a Gryffindor._

_So…what are we discussing?_

_But you lack something. Something I hold as a true characteristic of a Gryffindor._

_What?_

_Bravery._

_I'm no coward._

_No coward indeed, boy. But…you're different. You do not jump in the face of danger for a cause. You jump in the face of danger without a care for your existence. You do it to test the danger. To dare it to do something to you. That's not exactly bravery…_

_But…but…_

_And you have it in you. The blood of a Slytherin. The traits._

_Like?_

_You can be a very mean person if you want to, Scorpius. You don't always do things for others._

_They don't tend to look after me either._

_But, for the things you treasure, you care very much for. You have the brains too. The way of thinking, if you wished to apply it. You could make a very…powerful Slytherin._

_But - but…_

_Don't worry, boy. You'll make your father proud by this._

_No – wait. _

"_SLYTHERIN!" the hat cried out._

"_Huh?" was the general reaction from a few students caught off-guard. Most of them were from either the Gryffindors or the Slytherins. After a pause too long, the Slytherins clapped loudly, cheering the latest addition, and made room for him._

_Al, ofcourse, was sorted into Gryffindor. _

_The next day, the explanation for Scorpius' sorting had spread. He was a Malfoy. He was Draco Malfoy's son. This meant that most of the other first years, who's parents had no doubt at some point or the other mentioned the past and previous works of Draco Malfoy, stepped out of his way, seeing as how even a surname, as well as Hermione Granger's blood couldn't get him into Gryffindor house. The others, Slytherins, who's families Scorpius suppose his father had wronged, began to shove him around, or taunt him. _

_Al – Al had been good. But the truth was that now that they were in different houses, Al had other friends to hang out with, and barely any classes with Scorpius. So Scorpius was alone. Some people feared him – because of his father. Some people bullied him, yet again – because of his father. And some people took the mickey out of him because his father – reknowned son of a family of mudblood haters, had married, and had children with a mudblood. _

_In his eyes, every bad and stupid thing that happened to him was because of his father, and even changing his surname had done nothing to change that fact. _

"Scorpius!"

"Huh – what?" Scorpius asked, blinking. He pulled himself out of the memory.

"It's good to have you back," Sophie said scornfully, pulling herself off his bed.

"Where're you going? I'm listening," he said, as she headed for the door.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going downstairs, Scorpius. Dad's here."

"Dad?" Scorpius would admit he was still a little out of it.

"You know. Our father. Draco Malfoy. The one who you look so much like?"

Sophie didn't even wait for an answer. She went off, a little excited, to meet Malfoy. And Scorpius, finally brought back down to earth, turned back to the mirror, and looked at his reflection with the new fact dawning on him yet again.

_**I look just like him.**_

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

"Sophie!" Draco said, almost relieved. Sophie gave him a big smile.

"Hi, Dad," she said, letting him in. Once Sophie shut the door, another slammed from upstairs.

"Where the hell have you been all this time, huh?" Scorpius sneered, thundering down the stairs, wand in his hand. He pointed it at his father, breaking the long stretch of silent treatments he had been giving Draco. "Where the bloody hell were you for all these years? And what gives you the bloody right to come back now that mum's dead?"

Draco couldn't help it. He couldn't help himself. Scorpius made him remember.

**"_Where the hell have you been?" _**

**_It was Hermione, and it was him…a year before they were married. She'd run at him the moment he'd apparated into her apartment, and hugged him so hard he almost fell from the impact. He hugged her back, just as provoked by her appearance as she was of him. He hugged her, taking in scent, feeling her heartbeat through their contact. She laid her head on his chest, while he stroke her hair._**

Draco looked at Scorpius, pulling himself out of the fantasy of his memory. His son was raging, on the brink of breaking down by the looks of it.

"Did you ever love her? Did you ever love any of us?" Scorpius thundered, wand raised dangerously close to Draco's neck. Draco shoved Scorpius' arm to the side roughly, and raised his own wand.

Sophie gasped.

"Ofcourse, I did!" he bellowed. "I love your mother, and I love the both of you! Don't be rash, boy! Not when you don't know the entire story!"

"And what reason have you given me?" Scorpius yelled, pushing himself towards his father's wand. He and Draco were about an inch from each other when Sophie tried to intervene. "What's your reason, Malfoy? What's your bloody excuse?"

Damn this boy, Draco thought. His words made him remember more than he wished.

**"_What's your bloody excuse?" Hermione yelled during another occurence, beating her fists against Draco's chest. She barely got a hit in, when he grabbed her wrists, and threw them to the side, her along with them. She dropped to her place on the ground, her legs previously trembling from the argument. She had no chance at standing, even if she willed it. Taking his push to shove, she just fell, and looked up at him, matching his venomous look. Draco dropped to his knees beside her, and took her hand, placing it on his heart._**

**"_Do you feel that?" he said firmly. "Do you feel it?" She nodded numbly. "That's yours, understand? That will always be yours. I've given it to you, and I'm not taking it back. I love you." Pause. "And I know it scares you when I leave, and when I don't come back soon enough, but always know that I will. A man cannot live without his heart, Miya, and you are the only person who holds mine."_**

"Scorpius, shut up!" Sophie said weakly. "Just shut up!"

She pushed her brother away from her father, but Scorpius fought back. "What reason do I have to give him any sort of welcome back into our lives? He left, Sophie! He bloody picked up and left! Just get out, and leave. I've lived up till now without any help from you, nor your presence, and I think I'll do just find for the rest of my life."

He turned on his heel, and stormed off. Draco would not let him go without a fight, yelling at him from the bottom of the stairs.

"SCORPIUS MALFOY! You come down here, right now! You have no right whatsoever to talk to me in that tone! I am your father and –"

"GRANGER!" Scorpius bellowed, turning around once again. "My. Name. Is. Scorpius. Granger. I've disowned that name in the same way I've disowned you, _father_."

Draco stopped again. Now, really. Three memories? Was this boy going for the record?

**"_Granger, Draco! My name is Hermione Granger. We haven't gotten married yet." Hermione grinned at her fiancé, who was trailing kisses from her shoulder to her neck._**

**"_But we will be, Mrs. Malfoy, and from that moment on I will never say the word Granger again."_**

**"_It's not a word, Draco, it's my name," Hermione said, laughing as she pulled herself away from his kisses, and turned to face him. There was nothing but love in her eyes, and excitement at the prospect of being his wife. _**

**"_I don't really care about names," Draco said, kissing her. _**

**"_Really, now?" Hermione teased. Draco grinned at her, before kissing her again, to which she most jovially complied. _**

"You changed your name?" Draco asked, caught completely off-guard. He wasn't yelling anymore, and perhaps that was why Scorpius stopped as well. Scorpius hadn't said a word to retaliate. He was staring, positively fuming, but silent. Draco felt an unknown emotion sweep over his being. He felt…strangely detached. His son had changed his name. His son, a spitting image of himself, was not a Malfoy – he was a Granger. "Scorpius…Granger," Draco said, testing it out with his own tongue.

Scorpius said nothing. Draco turned to Sophie, who looked shocked by the sudden outbreak of emotions and the yelling, but was determined to stay in the conversation. "Are you a Granger, too?"

"She's a Malfoy," Scorpius replied.

The house lights blinked. Draco's eyes snapped from them to Scorpius, who regarded him coolly, not even flinching at the magic his emotions had caused.

"She's her Daddy's girl," Scorpius bit off.

**"_She's her Daddy's girl," Hermione cooed, holding little Sophie in her arms. Sophie squirmed in her sleep, but kept her eyes closed. A sleeping baby girl. _**

**"_She's beautiful," Draco remarked proudly, kissing his wife on the top of her head. "How'd I ever become as lucky as to have such a small little thing like that? So perfect? So…so like her mother." His gaze shifted to Hermione, who beamed at him, and pecked him on the lips. _**

**"_She's yours as well, you know," Hermione said, grinning._**

**"_No boy is going to be allowed within a ten foot radius of her," Draco said darkly._**

**"_Not with you protecting her, I doubt," Hermione said jokingly. Draco frowned. He was serious._**

**"_I'll always protect her," he swore._**

Oh, Merlin, how he had lied.

"I'm sorry," he said offhandedly to Sophie, before breaking out of his latest trance. He couldn't even hold a straight argument, let alone a conversation.

Sophie looked at him questioningly. Scorpius snorted.

"Sorry doesn't change anything, _father_," Scorpius drawled again, his tone acid-like at the word 'father'.

But Draco was still a little out of it. A little bewildered. It was as though all his memories were racing into his mind on firebolts…and firebolts were a thing of the past now. Every memory, each more painful that the last, stabbing at his insides, taking apart pieces of his heart and soul as he remembered, one after another of how he had lied.

Scorpius took a step down.

"Every broken promise," he remarked. "Every lie." He took his place behind his sister. "Every empty word." He hugged Sophie, who pulled out of his grasp to look at a bewildered Draco. This was too much. "Every birthday missed. Every Christmas."

Scorpius himself broke off, sounding saddened by the reality of his own words. "Every single day." He looked at his father, whose eyes now matched his own misery.

"Sorry doesn't change anything," Scorpius said, before turning on his heel, and marching right out the door.

**A/N: There it is, folks!**

**Let's just review and recap, shall we?**

**In the first part, Scorpius is dealing with the shock he feels towards the fact that he is the spitting image of his father. While having a conversation with his sister, his mental retorts bring back memories to him, especially the painful one of him being sorted into Slytherin. **

**In the second part, Draco comes for his routine visit, and Scorpius can't help but blast out at him. His words, which stab Draco like a knife, bring back unwanted memories. The bolded and italicized words are those memories. And towards the end, Draco can't help it anymore. Scorpius has opened an entire box of pain for him, and Draco realizes through his son's words that 'Sorry' won't change all the damage he has caused. **

**And yes, Harry is Hermione's ex-best friend. More on that topic in later chapters.**

**Review!**


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